From My Desk to Yours
Musings, thoughts and information I want to share with the world.
Bianca on fourteen years of marriage, three griefs landing in the same week, and what it means to celebrate when grief is still loud.
Rage needs to boil up. Sadness needs somewhere to gather. Shame was never yours to carry, and guilt is the quiet one nobody talks about. Pregnancy loss brings all four, and society has a rule for hiding every single one of them. Here’s what happens when you stop following those rules.
This week I turn 49. In my book I told my pregnancy story in seven year jumps. Here’s what else those years taught me: moving house four times before I was seven, five continents in my twenties, a ring on my finger at 35, and the writing that’s carried me through pandemic, perimenopause and pink hair. Seven sevens, one wild ride.
Nobody told you that losing a pregnancy would cost you money. Between the extra appointments, the therapists, the alternative therapies, and the general desperation to try absolutely anything, the financial cost of pregnancy loss is real, and almost nobody talks about it. If you’re carrying both grief and debt, there’s a good chance the two are more connected than you’ve ever let yourself say out loud. Let me show you
Nobody warns you that parenting after pregnancy loss comes with its own grief. Bianca Johnson shares the guilt, anxiety and fears that loss parents rarely talk about.
Sarah. I held that name privately for years before I ever said it out loud. I knew she was a girl because of the genetic testing after my missed miscarriage in 2014. I knew her name too, the one I’d always wanted for myself as a middle name, the one I’d quietly given her the…
Six months after my final loss, my therapist told me to leave my TFMR support group. She meant well. But it was one of the most unhelpful things anyone said to me, and it took me years to understand why comparing your grief to others is so hard to stop.
I’ve done a lot of things for money. Clown. English teacher in Taiwan. Insurance consultant. Travel agent. Concierge. Virtual assistant. And somewhere in between all of that, the person who sits in front of you now: empowerment coach, author, and accidental expert in life falling apart and being rebuilt.
I chose my word of the year 2026 at the end of last year, the way I always do. Quietly, intentionally, with Leonie Dawson’s Goals Workbooks open on the table, a ridiculous number of coloured pens and a cup of coffee going cold beside me. The word was ME. It took a lot to accept…
Most grief models were designed around a single loss. But what about the second? The third? If you’ve ever felt like the frameworks don’t quite fit your experience, this post is for you and it’s the one I wish I’d had after my second miscarriage in a year.
